The ringing was almost deafening, screaming loud and clear. Cyril could feel the pain, but due to both training and natural tolerance he was able to push through. The shambling corpse single-mindedly headed towards the spire, compelled by a powerful influence above whatever magic had animated it. "I wonder why it only can command the undead?" The young folklorist mused as he observed the zombie's behavior. His steps were slowing the closer to the spire they walked. The presence was nearly overwhelming, yet he could see no visible source. The trek was wearing them all down. When Sir Bartholomew asked what the should choose next, he crossed his arms to think."…Let him go ahead. Everbody's pretty tired now, and I'm sure the undead won't bother us. I can help set things up." 

His brother had been following behind, with hands on his shoulders leaning heavily–groaning as much as the real zombie. He looked to be in really bad shape, so Cyril thought this was best. He also had taken a lengthy nap on the way here, so he wasn't feeling tired just yet. Letting his brother use the blanket, he started by drawing a wide circle with a diameter of at least ten meters using his staff. The circle line was deep, so it wouldn't be easily covered or disturbed by foot traffic. As his brother rested, he methodically began preparations to set up a location of sanctuary. Scavenging some sticks, he began fastening slips of paper inked with symbols onto them. These he placed at five different points on the circle, facing outward. This would ensure that nothing, physical or incorporeal, would be able to disturb them when they were inside. 

"I wonder why it only can command the undead?" The bleached lad asks.

"Why can necromancers only command the undead? Well, because necrotic and enchanting energy are two entirely different forms of magic." Sir Isaac says a bit more curt and annoyed than usual. He closes his eyes and breathes in, trying to take control of his bad mood. The lad wasn't responsible for the constant ringing, and he had to worry for his brother too. The non-bleached lad looked like he was in a very bad shape for some reason, possibly the ringing or another curse.

As Belen was laid down to rest with the blanket wrapped around him and while Cyril began writing protective runes around their camp, Sir Isaac follows the zombie for a bit. Following it for about a minute or so until its groaning was out of the group's earshot, Sir Isaac places his boot on the zombie's skull and grabs the torso. With the pinned down zombie unable to claw at him properly, Sir Isaac begins to tie a rope around the zombie. Once he feels like it was secure, he releases the zombie and ties the other end of the rope around a nearby tree. Assuming that the knots would hold, they could continue following it tomorrow.

That is, assuming they'd still need to do that. Sir Isaac looks at the ever darkening sky and the spooky sight that the forest around them became as the dead trees turned into a world of shadowed, gnawed claws and fingers around them. This was no place for the living. It hadn't been for a long time.

A few runes before Cyril would finish up his barrier, Sir Isaac hops into the circle. He studies the other boy, Beren. The lad was in a bad shape, perhaps even a hint feverish. This was more than just the ringing, this was more serious than just a bit of a bad mood. Sir Isaac places his hand on Beren's forehead and calls forth curing energy. [cure] He didn't know if it would solve the issue, but if this was a curse or dark magic of some sort, it should at least allevate the problem a bit.

As Cyril finishes up the barrier, Sir Isaac lies down. "I'lll take the middle shift, you boys need your sleep. Good night…."

Head pounding, a brief sense of relief washes over him after the knight worked his magic. Still, it did a number on him. Try as he might, sleep didn't come easily. Tossing and turning, at last he passed out. His brother gave a nod when Sir Bart said he'd take over the next shift, keeping watch. Night slowly descended over Tyr. Eerie silence came as the few sounds of life disappeared with the daylight. Near the dead of the night, small wisps of greenish flame materialized in the air. Floating like fire flies, they flitted through the cold air. The only place they didn't appear was inside the protective circle. As soon as one drifted too close, it would come in contact with the barrier's force and vaporize. 

As the night dragged on, the clouds obscured the moons to darken the island further. Fitful dreams came to him in jumbled nonsense. He saw bones, thousands and thousands of bones piled up on a barren wasteland. A never-ending field of skeletons as far as the eye could see. The skies were red and dark, choking fumes polluted the air. It was hard to breathe. Then, from the boneyard came a rattling. That rattling rose to a clamor, and thundered like a roar. The bones were quivering, and shook like an earthquake's first tremors. Eerie lights entered the eye sockets of every skull still whole, and the bones themselves began to move. The ringing returned, growing louder, louder as the moving mass grave shuddered and twisted into a shape. Rising like resurrected corpse, the bone pile reared itself up to tower over him. It formed limbs, a torso, then a head. Large holes formed to create a skull's visage. The sickly lights shone brightly in the empty spaces as the mouth was formed. A great massive giant of bone loomed hundreds of feet high, and when it turned to look down at him–he screamed.

Jolting awake, Belen was covered in cold sweat. Shaking, his eyes darted to see if he was still in the land of the living. No bones, no signs of that horrible monster. He could make out the shapes of his brother and Sir Bart close by. Shapes of stars gently shone on the ground as Cyril pulled out a glass bottle of starlight, setting it in the center of their encampment. Seeing the familiar lights, he was relieved. Sitting up and pulling off the blanket, his twin took notice and came over. "You ok?" He nodded. "Yeah. Just had the craziest dream, that's all. All that stuff we heard on the way here must've caused it." Taking a seat across from him, his brother asked: "What was it about?" There was a long pause before he could work up the courage to say it. Swallowing hard, he replied. "…Bones. Hundreds and thousands of bones." 

Within the circle of protection and with some credit to the knight's efforts, the headache was more bearable. The painful ringing wasn't as severe, but still present. There was a tension in the air, as if sooner or later something would happen.

Sir Isaac stirs awake as their quiet campsite turns more active. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he notices that it's already past midnight and several hours into what should've been his shift. Did the bleach-haired boy forgo waking him, or did he just not notice the hours pass? It didn't seem like he had fallen asleep, so at least that wasn't the problem. He didn't even seem that tired, despite the long shift and the constant ringing. An insomniac, perhaps? Well, it didn't matter for now.

The other brother was awake too, surprisingly enough. He still seemed to be in a bad shape, drenched in cold sweat and quite shaken up. And apparently, as Sir Isaac figures out as the sleep fades from his mind and his awareness returns to him, Belen had awoken just now as well. His sudden awakening was what had woken Sir Isaac up, in fact. That, and the rumbling.

"Bones. Hundreds and thousands of bones." Sir Isaac hadn't caught the rest of the conversation, but he heard that. And the serious tone with which Beren said it. There was something ominous in it, as if it was something significant despite it being just a normal dream.

"I think I saw something similar. A whole field of bones. A battlefield of fallen soldiers, broken banners and all kinds of rusting tools of war. It was a strange dream, looking down on it from up high like an eagle. Just that sight of decade-old death, suddenly glowing red. That sight, and a skeleton hand that reached up to grab me. One so massive that it could wrap around me whole and reach up into the clouds. But once it tried to grab me, the sun rose and it all faded." Sir Isaac says. "And then I had a dream about riding a strawberry cupcake into a garlic-shaped fortress occupied by rainbow-ghosts. I don't think there was any meaning behind that one, though."

Sir Isaac clears his throat as he receives the weird stares that the last comment earned him, and decides to just lie back down. If he'd pretend to go back to sleep, he could avoid continuing this conversation.

Rumble. Rumble.

Sir Isaac sits back up again. Turning to the two boys, he quickly double-checks his equipment and whether his sword is ready for combat. "Heads up. Something is coming. Something big."

"If you place your ear on the ground, you can hear the footsteps. Which was definately why I lied down again just now, to confirm what I heard. They're not as strong as that tremor we felt just before the two of us woke up, but they're definately getting stronger." Sir Isaac says, grimly looking at the spire on the horizon. "Sir Cybil, you can sense this creature, can't you? How close by is it?"

Cyril listened carefully when his brother told him of the dream. This was all very familiar, like he had heard about this somewhere. Sir Bartholomew woke up next, and said he had a dream just like Bel's too. Staring up at the moonless sky, he racked his brain thinking. "Bones…a battlefield. A great skeleton…" The rumbling began, and he could feel the oppressive presence he had sensed upon setting foot on the island shift. "Sir Cybil, you can sense this creature, can't you? How close by is it?" The knight asked with worry in his voice. Amidst the rumbling, a great figure emerged from the spire, two great glowing spots towering above the entire island. The cloud cover moved, and the great shape of a massive skeleton was made clear. Watching the monstrosity take form, the folklorist stood and pointed. "There–it's finally here. Things like that are at their strongest after night falls."

"Towering several stories high, as big as mount Waraji–eyes shining a frightening crimson red. It reached out and crushed with its left hand, smashing any escaping victims with a club made from a single large bone–" He recited, recalling the passage he had seen in an old scroll years ago. "Borne from the casualties of battle or the victims of famine, its origin lies from the collective spirits of the unburied dead. Without being given funerary rites, their spirits turn vengeful and bear an unyielding grudge against the living. From the records of the cleric-priests of the Nichirin sect, this monster was called: 'Gashadokuro'." 

A blood-curdling shriek split the silence, forcing both brothers to double over while covering their ears. It was so loud that it drowned out every other sound, replacing the terrible ringing. The bound zombie that the paladin had tied up earlier began to writhe at the sound of the great skeleton, and a greenish fire left its body to join the hordes of wisps swarming the spire. The rotting corpse then disintegrated. The shaking did not cease at the ghastly monster's arrival. More undead, those who had not freed themselves beforehand began to emerge from their graves. It was an exodus of the dead–en masse with the destination being the Gashadokuro itself.

It was all making sense to Cyril now; he understood why of all places Tyr had been where it manifested. Tyr was in fact, the perfect place for this to happen. The necrotic energies and corpses who were never given their last rites, years of abandonment–just the right conditions to create a Gashadokuro. When his ears were no longer screaming, he scrambled to his feet and drew a katana and an obsidian-lacriamium sword. "Destroy the rising corpses, it's gathering power! The more unconsecrated dead it takes, the stronger it becomes!" 

"How close by is it?" Sir Isaac asks. The bleached-haired boy points at the spire in response.

"Please tell me it's close by. Like, real close by and somehow playing tricks with perspective." Sir Isaac says. "Or some other feasable reason for it to look bigger than it really is."

"There- It's finally here. Things like that are at their strongest after night falls." Cybil says.

"That's not what I wanted to hear. That's the exact opposite of what I wanted to hear. Please tell me something a bit more reassuring." A very wary Sir Isaac says.

In response, Cyril recites a legend that he heard about this behemoth. And almost as if he hadn't heard Sir Isaac, he didn't make it sound reassuring at all.

"Well, at least we know what it is. Say, did these Nichirin priests mention anything about a weak sp-"

Sir Isaac is interrupted rudely by a blood-curdling shriek that even nullified the ringing in their ears. Almost as if in response to the physical scream, green light begins to well up from the ground around them. From the grounds all over the island. Like streams, clotted together with a few whisps of lonely souls here and there, the desecrated souls rallied to the call of the Gashadokuro.

"Destroy the rising corpses, it's gathering power! The more unconsecrated dead it takes, the stronger it becomes!" Cybil shouts, drawing his weapons.

"Damn it, there's no time! Those souls are welling up from all over the island, we cannot possibly reach all those places in time before the souls have already been absorbed! Even with my holy bow I can only hit a few of the streams from here!" Sir Isaac shouts. "Say, Cybil! Is this thing distracted while it gathers more souls, or will it gather them regardless? Oh, and cover your eyes before this thing goes off!"

While shouting, Sir Isaac takes the moustache-shaped composite bow from his back and places a magic arrow on it. Whispering a small prayer while aiming it, he shoots the arrow at the nearest soulstream. The arrow leaves a line of light behind it as it flies straight at its target, exploding upon impact. Almost as bright as a small sun, the holy light brightens up the sky for a brief moment. [sunburst][holy light] Sir Isaac covers his eyes by covering his face with his elbow, and he hears how the Gashadokuro screams in rage and confusion. As the sky darkens again and Sir Isaac's eyes readjust, he takes a look at the results of his attack. The front and back of the stream are still headed for the Gashadokuro, but there was a large gap torn right through it where the evil souls had been ripped apart by the divine force.

It was but a small victory amongst a dozen losses, though. Sir Isaac could maybe reach three of the soul streams with the range on his bow, despite the the great range of his bow and clear shot that such a slow-moving floating target gave him. Three streams out of the dozens that were headed for the Gashadokuro, plenty of which were coming from the very other end of the island. And this skeleton titan was only increasing his strength further, his power was already more than massive without these additional souls.

"Cover your eyes in three, two-" Sir Isaac shouts, taking aim at one of the other soul streams. Two seconds later the sky lights up again and the stream was torn asunder. The Gashadokuro screams in agony and turns his head to their general location. Its eyes flare up brighter in rage and it sets a massive step, only for it angrily scream once again when the light explodes like firework a third time.

"There, that was the last stream I can reach from here. If we want to take out the others, we'll have to either move or go to the source of the streams." Sir Isaac says, turning to the two boys with all his chivalrous cheer replaced with a serious demeanour. "As many souls as it appears to be absorbing, we probably have time. This creature has been plaguing the island and the ships that sail around it for days, perhaps weeks now. It's not going to finish absorbing every last soul tonight, nor will its power increase too much beyond what it already is if it would. At least, I think so. If your lore on this creature suggests anything else, I'm all ears. In fact, you seem to be the most knowledgeable one amongst us about this particular conundrum. So I'm leaving the choice to you, Sir Cybil, what do we do now?"

Sir Isaac, still completely serious, takes out his holy symbol (whose angel-wings look suspiciously moustache-shaped), unsheates his sword (with a moustache-shaped cross-guard) and holds the one aloft while placing the other on his lips. Calling forth his celestial steed [summon companion] by speaking its name into his symbol, Sir Isaac slices the air in front of him to carve a tear into reality itself. His unicorn warhorse gallops through the tear and circles around to meet his paladin. The tear closes itself again and Sir Isaac quickly jumps onto his steed's back.

Both the paladin and the unicorn look at the two boys. The latter sniffs the air to get a read on the two, and the moustache on his upper lip wiggles. "Tell me, Sir Cybil? What will we do? Shall we take the fight to this behemoth, or focus on the graveyards? Or do we split up to do both? I don't think I can defeat this beast by myself, but perhaps I can keep it occupied and distracted, if that would stop him from absorbing more power."

Today was just not his day. An explosion of sound and they were keeled over, everything was hurting all over. Belen swore he was deaf, until he could still hear his brother and Sir Bart shouting. Struggling to regain his senses, he was lucky to not have his eyes open for the light shot the man's bow was giving off. A pair of hands pulled him up, and he was barely catching up to what was going on. "What? What's going on? Why is everything going straight down the sinker?!" His brother wasn't paying attention to him as the knight asked him a direct question. Before Belen could give any input, his twin answered. "We need to destroy it while we can." He stared in disbelief. "Destroy what? What are we doing?" Again his brother kept talking without noticing he was trying to give a second opinion. "The night has just begun, but I think there's a way we can shorten our traveling time. Bel, can you open up a portal?" 

Throwing his hands up in defense, Belen was flabbergasted. "Whoa, whoa–hold on! Why do I have to open a portal and where am I opening it to?" Cyril fumbled and pulled out a wayfinder's widget, pressing a spot on one of the sides. Its smooth surface lit up and flashed a circular symbol before projecting a simplified topographic depiction of a portion of the island. "I had it record everywhere we went after we left the ship. The most detailed areas show where we walked, while the closest surrounding areas are outlined. The tower is right here." He placed an index finger on a visual marker labelled 'The Spire' on the light projection. "And you need a portal because…?" "We have to get there right away. There's a monster there and we need to destroy it." Cyril explained with determination.

"…No. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not. I am not sending us on a one-way ticket to death by some evil thing that's out for blood." His brother started pleading with him, but he wasn't going to budge. He should've said no when they thought about getting on board, but he was putting his foot down now. "Please Bel? We really need your help! …If we get rid of the monster, it'll make your headache go away." There was a moment of silence as he crossed his arms and turned away. He sure made a very convincing argument. Out of the decency of his own heart–not because he wanted to rid himself of the persistent migraine–he made a decision. "…Ok, fine. But you better be more than a hundred-percent sure that it'll take the ringing with it." Cyril was delighted, and was already talking about plans on what they should do to stop the giant skeleton as soon as possible. Rolling his eyes, Belen started opening the portal to the closest place he could in relation to the Spire.

"We shall take the fight to the behemoth, then!" Sir Isaac says. his moustache'd unicorn rears and whinnies bravely. "Sir Julian and I shall keep this thing occupied and shoot some of the bigger soul streams just before they can be absorbed, but we can only do so much! I've only got twelve arrows left, and not enough energy to make them all sunburst! You lads give me a signal once you've prepared something to harm this thing with, and I can maybe stun it for a second with my flashbangs."

"Go, Sir Julian Calimero the First of the Helios bloodline! To battle!" Sir Julian gallops through the portal, soon leaving the two boys behind. With powerful strides he charges at the Garashadokuro, which already turns to face this brightly shining dot in the otherwise complete darkness. The bone club rises for an attack, dust falling off of it from the rapid movement. Sir Isaac swallows, seeing some of those dust particles fall with a velocity that suggested that they were actually boulders. Then, the bone club swings down upon them with great force and speed.

"To left!" Sir Isaac shouts and Sir Julian almost makes a straight 90 degree curve to dodge the incoming mass of destruction. The shadow of the club looms over them for a split second as it darkens out the moon and plunges them into complete blackness, but then they jump back into the light and rush further. A shockwave knocks the air out of Sir Isaac's lungs as the club comes crashing down behind them, sending up more mud and dirt than a village's worth and causing the ground to tremble like an earthquake.

As if the exercise of mass destruction equalling a force of nature was nothing at all, the Gashadokuro rises the club again and prepares for another strike. Sir Isaac prepares his bow and lines up his shot. "Steady now, Sir Julian… Now!"

A line of light encroaches upon the Gashadokuro and nuzzles itself in between two soul streams that are about to be absorbed into his body. A bright flash almost half the size of his ribcage tears them apart and makes the Gashadokuro wail in agony. His second club smash falters as the arm that was rising to prepare for the club to smash the island again breaks it movement to shield the body from the light. It's of little consequence however, slowing down the Gashadokuro only for mere seconds.

"To him!"

Sir Julian changes course again to head for the massive skeleton and Sir Isaac grimly looks at the club as it is once again raising for a ground-shattering smash. They could dodge this thing, narrowly as it may be, and they had its attention. Sir Isaac saw no weakness or vulnerability to take advantage of, however, nothing to decisively harm this behemoth. But that was not his task, fortunately. He just had to keep this abomination busy while the boys concocted some kind of plan to harm it.

"To left!" Sir Isaac shouts as the club is once again swung down upon them.

"I can't guarantee how close we're going to end up since I haven't physically seen the place before. So there might be some technical difficulties." Belen grumbled. "Thanks Bel, we'll be able to get there in no time!" Cyril said, trying to cheer up his older twin. Realizing they didn't have any way to contact Sir Bartholomew after they went through the portal, the folklorist asked his brother for one more small favor. "Hey Bel, when we start our plan can you use telepathy to tell Sir Bartholomew?" "Sure…why not. Ok, the portal's almost done." A swirling portal appeared before them both, and Cyril waved to the knight one last time before the twins jumped through. In the blink of an eye, the portal vanished. They tumbled out at a good distance from the spire, in a devastated portion of forest. They had a clear shot of the Gashadokuro, which was all that they needed.

Flashes of light pepper the massive monster, causing it to shriek in rage. The knight was doing his best to take the attention off of them, so they needed to make this work. The twins began formulating their strategy: attack it in a 1-2 combo and deal as much damage as possible when it was unable to defend and retaliate. "So what's the plan? I mean I really hope you have one–since the portal was your idea." Belen said warily. "First, teleport me where I can climb onto the Gashadokuro. Sir Bartholomew should still be distracting it, so maybe it won't notice me. You teleport back here, and I'll start attacking it. When it's being affected by both of us, get your biggest spell ready." 

"Wait, you don't mean–" He clarified for his brother before he could finish, "Not explosion–the meteor shower." Belen inhaled deeply, clearly not thrilled at the idea. "I'll buy you some time. Before you set it off, tell Sir Bartholomew to take cover. We'll be able to hit both it and the other undead around the island." He reassured him. His older brother rubbed the back of his head and exhaled, doing his best to grin. "…Well what are we waiting for? Let's roll!" Belen held onto him as he teleported them both to a still-intact portion of a building. "This should give you a decent place to climb up and latch on. Just don't get spotted, ok?" Cyril nodded, then his brother disappeared. At once he started scaling the wall's surface, steadily approaching the closest bones of the gigantic skeleton. He cast a spell of resurrection on himself just in case the Gashadokuro spotted him. If one of them had to take a hit, he needed to stay alive so they wouldn't join the stream of souls feeding into the monster.

Latching onto a femur, he clung on as it shook in response to the holy attacks. Once it stopped he quickly resumed his advance, working his way up to the spine. Slipping into its rib cage, he began stabbing at the vertebrae with his obsidian-lacriamium blade. The divine energies imbued upon it made the Gashadokuro recoil, clawing at its torso to rid itself of the pain. There were visible spots of damage where the undead apparition's form was being compromised. Wreaking as much havoc as he could while avoiding the bony hands, Cyril hoped Belen would have enough time to launch their first major blow.

"By the light of the heavens, yield! Yield, you foul aberration!" Sir Isaac says. He strokes his moustache and calls forth a powerful ray of divine light. It was a parlor trick compared to his sunburst arrows, but he couldn't keep that up forever. Best save his energy and arrows for when they were absolutely needed. Instead, he shines the light at the Gashadokuro's face and causes it to recoil briefly from the blinding brightness. It was a good thing that he only had to distract the behemoth, because here was little more that he could do against a being of such massive proportions.

"On my mark Sir Julian, use light lance! Now!" Sir Julian turns to the Gashadokuro and his horn shines brightly. Extending into a long lance, a luminent version of his horn shoots away at their foe. The horn pierced through the club-wielding wrist and the bone club slowly shifted from his grasp. Before it falls however, the Gashadokuro steadies his grip again and prepares for another smash. "To side. Let's put a little bit more distance between us. We wouldn't want to come so close that it might try stomping us, lest we want the lads to be caught as collision in that devastation!"

Sir Julian immediately complies and begins galloping away from the giant with an angle that allows Sir Isaac to keep an easy sight on their foe. The Gashadokuro follows their path and roars, bringing down his club once again.

"Back! Break and retreat!" Sir Isaac shouts hastily. Sir Julian rears and nearly falls prone as he stops from full pace to zero in a few steps. Not a second later though he is already turning their momentum into a very tight curve and heading back the way they came. The club tears up the ground behind them and dirt accosts them from behind. That had been a close call. A very close call.

Did it know what it just did, or was it mere coïncidence? If this undead creature was intelligent enough to aim for where they were going instead of where they were, then it was a more intelligent creature than Sir Isaac had given it credit for. And a much more intelligent creature than he had hoped for. But perhaps it had just been coincidence. They had just shot it in the wrist, so the creature's aim could be off.

The Gashadokuro screams and wails, grabbing at his chest. Seems like the boys had joined the fray. "To battle, Sir Julian! I promised these lads that I'd keep the monster distracted, so lets see to it that we become his number one annoyance again!"

Sir Julian turns and heads straight for the Gashadokuro, approaching it with incredible speed. With a mighty leap he jumps onto the Gashadokuro's toe and runs over the bones to the behemoth's ankle. Sir Isaac draws his sword and prepares his holy light. [consecrate weapon] With a mighty two-handed slash, fueled by Sir Julian's speed and steadied with Sir Isaac's firm hold, the blade carves through the dark strings that formed the skeleton's tendons.

The Gashadokuro screams with more pain than ever before, his massive frame buckling to the side for just a brief moment before he steadies himself again. The dark shadowy matter that Sir Isaac had carved through quickly burned away for a good three feet, leaving illuminated remnants of holy energy that prevented his tendon from reforming quickly. All skeletons had these dark threads throughout their frame, ensuring that they'd actually stay together and were able to move around like they once did in life. Dark threads that copied the tendons and muscles from the humanoid body, limited and resized to be between the bones only. Normally a detail that none but necromancers concerned themselves with, but in this case a greater weakness than the massive and solid bones.

Sir Isaac braces himself for impact as Sir Julian heads back for the ground, several meters below them. The unicorn's landing is quite elegant, but it was still a shock on the both of them. "Away, quickly! Before it tries to stomp us out!"

The Gashadokuro screams and turns around to once again focus his attention on Sir Isaac. It didn't seem too agile when it came to turning, as was to be expected of a being of such a size on footing so uneven. It raised its club, but it wouldn't be able to properly hit Sir Isaac when they were this close. Instead it had to hold it upside down and stabbed it straight downward. With the area of effect greatly reduced it was an easy attack to dodge however, faster and less predictable as it might be.

It might not be the best of ideas, but Sir Isaac was getting confident of their chances with their recent successes and this new weakness that he had deduced. "Let's make way to his other foot next, and we shall slice through his inner tendon this time! When both are severed, the behemoth will be forced to kneel or fall to the right! It will ensure that the lads will have a much easier target to strike!"

Sir Isaac quickly pulls the reigns to the right, narrowly dodging the bone club that came from the heavens like a column and dug itself several meters deep. To his dissatisfaction, the Gashadokuro lets go of the club with one hand to reach into his ribcage once more. Even another ray of holy light shining directly into the skeleton's eyes didn't distract it enough to draw his hand away from the second assailant.

"Blasted! We best topple it quickly, before it gets a hold of the lad! Anyone is done for when they're grabbed or smashed by this behemoth even once! And I'm not sure if I can ressurrect the boy if he's squished too badly!" Sir Isaac says. Sir Julian whinnies agreeingly and picks up the pace.